


Craving Comfort

by ladyoneill



Series: Dark Side Of The Moon [28]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Forced Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter comes home from an out of town trip to find Stiles breaking his diet, yet there's a good reason, and, in the end Peter's only mad at himself for not being there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Craving Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hurt/Comfort bingo prompt "comfort food/item". Stiles is about seven months pregnant at this juncture and, while he's still scared and a bit resentful, mostly he wants Peter and the baby. Things are getting better...despite the curly fries infraction.

Returning from a three day meeting with a pack in southern Oregon, Peter finds Stiles curled on the couch eating what appears, from the trash on the floor, to be a second large sized bag of curly fries. Frustration hits hard and he dumps his duffle inside the door and crosses the floor to rip away the half empty bag before Stiles can even protest.

"This is what you do when I'm away?" He's angry, but, more he's frustrated because Stiles was doing so well on his diet.

Face turning red, Stiles tries to shove himself off the couch, growing more annoyed when he can't. "Why is your couch so squishy?" he finally yells as he gives up. "And give me those back."

"No." Towering over his mate he glares down at him and bites out, "Explain."

Stiles doesn't cower but he comes close, pushing back into the soft pillows on the couch, tugging the throw covering him tighter around his body. "You weren't here and I was scared and you weren't here, Peter. I didn't know what was happening and I wanted to call you but I know the meeting was important and..." His yelling cuts off with a groan and a hand pressed tightly to his side. "Not again."

Peter pales and drops to his knees, the bag of fries spilling to the floor. "What is it?" His hand is shaking as he reaches out and places it on Stiles' stomach.

"Braxton Hicks," his mate groans. "Really strong. I thought...I woke up this morning cramping so badly and I was so scared."

His hand is in his pocket pulling out his phone before he even realizes it. "I'm calling Deaton."

Stiles' grabs his wrist, shaking his head. "I've already been to see him. Dad took me this morning. We thought...we thought the baby was coming way too soon," he whispers, eyes down, face too pale now and Peter drops the phone and slides up onto the couch to cradle Stiles in his arms. Beneath his hands he feels the ripple of muscles and he remembers Marta experiencing them for the last few weeks, but never this strong.

"You should have called me."

"You couldn't have gotten here much sooner. If it had been labor, we would have." With a sigh, Stiles just goes limp, relaxing. "They're fading." He turns his head, rubbing his cheek against Peter's chest where his shirt falls open.

"It doesn't matter. You should have called me."

Slowly his mate pulls away, turning to face him, and Peter hates that wary expression. "You're mad."

He is, but not..."At myself," he explains, forcing himself to calm down. "I shouldn't have left you."

"I'm two months away. We couldn't have known. Deaton has no idea what might have caused it. They just happen sometimes. The meeting was important," Stiles stresses.

Peter cups his cheek and leans in to rub his nose along Stiles' neck, murmuring, "Not as important as you and the cub." He feels his young mate smile and wraps his arms around him again. "I won't leave again before the birth, I promise."

"Thank you," Stiles whispers. "I was...I was really scared."

Peter knows Stiles is scared about pretty much all of this, but it's not the time to address it. "So, the fries?"

"Um...Comfort food. I needed something." He squirms a bit and Peter kisses his cheek to show him he's not mad about that.

"Did you ask Deaton first?"

"Yes." He's being truthful so Peter simply nods, encouraging him. "He said that at this stage greasy or fattening food occasionally that helps me relax is better than stress."

"Two bags?"

Stiles squirms again which, now that his anger and frustration are past--but not the fear; that he'll need to deal with--Peter finds adorable. "Um...Growing teenage pregnant boy here? And I only ate about half the second bag," he accuses.

Chuckling softly, Peter kisses his neck and cheek. "I'm going to talk to Deaton first but we'll try treats in moderation. I know in the Summer's heat you've been wanting ice cream."

"Rocky road?"

"Whatever you crave."

"You?"

Startled, Peter pulls back to gaze into Stiles' amber eyes. As the cub's become more active and his stomach much larger over the last month, Stiles hasn't wanted him to touch him intimately. "Did you ask Deaton about that?"

Stiles flushes. "Yes. He said it's fine as long as I feel up to it."

Peter moves his hand over the large bump. "The contractions have stopped."

"Deaton says they can be caused by stress. You're really good at making me relaxed."

Smirking, Peter draws him into a kiss, then easily lifts him to his feet and guides him to their bedroom. He watches as Stiles pulls off his clothes, pleased that, once he accepted the baby, Stiles lost all modesty again.

"Are you just going to stare at me?"

"I like staring at you." His voice is a low, amused and aroused growl, and he sees Stiles' skin pinken in reaction as he climbs awkwardly onto the bed. He lies on his back at first but then quickly rolls onto his side.

"I'm not sure how this is going to work."

Peter begins to undress, neatly setting aside each article of clothing and stepping over the pile of Stiles' as he approaches the bed. "Whatever position is most comfortable for you."

"I can't even see my own dick anymore. I'm not sure anything is comfortable," he grouses, but reaches into the drawer of the night stand for a bottle of lube.

Peter crawls in behind him and begins to knead his lower back, making Stiles moan and arch into the touch. "Better?" he asks, smiling as he kisses his shoulder blade.

"God yes."

The scent of arousal hits him and Peter reaches around with his other hand to fondle Stiles' growing erection, murmuring, "You may not be able to see it, but I know you can feel it."

Turning his head, Stiles meets his mouth in an open kiss. When they finally break apart, gasping, the younger man is flushed and trembling and his cock is slick with pre-cum as Peter gently jacks it. "Not sure how long I'll last..."

"That's okay." As Stiles buries his face in his arm, Peter peppers his shoulders and neck with kisses. "I'd love to spend hours driving you crazy, but that's not what you need." His fingers twist around the tip of Stiles' cock, making him groan deeply and push into his touch as best he can with his ungainly body. 

"Want you inside me."

"Come first," and it's nearly an Alpha command and Stiles shudders in reaction. Peter presses his own erection against the base of his spine, rocking slightly to keep himself on edge. He'd love to fuck his boy for hours, but a quick release is for the best. Tongue licking at Stiles' ear, he whispers, "You're ready. Just come, darling."

With a soft cry, Stiles does so, spilling over Peter's hand and his burgeoning stomach. As Peter rubs the semen into his mate's skin, he smiles as he squirms.

"Ugh."

"Marking you," he replies, nipping his shoulder with human teeth as Stiles goes limp, panting harshly. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just...wow, it's been like a month. I used to do it every day at least once."

Peter chuckles and rocks his hips forward, stimulating his own cock. "Do you still want me to...?" He can come like this, just jerk off against his mate's pale, firm back. He's not about to pressure Stiles. Not now. Not... Emotion floods him, tenderness, caring, and he closes his eyes against it, pushing them aside for now with amusement at himself. Had he actually believed he couldn't love this boy?

"Yeah. Yeah. I want," Stiles babbles, rubbing his hips back and making Peter groan in pleasure. "Maybe this way? Pregnant women do it on their sides sometimes." As he speaks, he hands back the lube and bends one knee, placing his foot on the bed for better access. Peter kisses his shoulder again and opens the bottle.

It's true. In the latter stages of pregnancy, Marta preferred this position, but..."How do you know that?"

"Google," Stiles snorts.

"So, you've been thinking about it." Slicking his fingers, he slips one in with little resistance and pumps it for a moment while his mate breathes with the pressure, before adding a second and making him grunt.

"Fuck yeah. I've...I've missed it." He looks over his shoulder again and Peter kisses him as his fingers twist and find his prostate. "Oh fuck, you're going to make me hard again."

"Two orgasms have to be more relaxing than one," he murmurs against his lips before kissing him again while pushing his third finger into the tight heat. 

"Yeah, okay. Yeah. In me. Fuck, now." Stiles is wriggling, fingers digging into the bedding, back arching as Peter massages his prostate with each twist of his fingers, and when he adds a fourth past the slackening rim, his mate yelps in pleasure. He's never used four fingers but he's not about to hurt Stiles. He wants him stretched and loose. It'll still be tight enough to stimulate his cock.

"Oh God, Peter, please," he begs, reaching back and caressing whatever part of the older man he can find.

Peter's cock throbs in need and a quick check with his free hand reveals Stiles is hardening again, shaft slick now with sweat as well as cum. He gives his mate's dick a squeeze, then carefully pulls his fingers free before lining up and pushing the head of his cock in.

"You tell me if it hurts at all," he demands softly, but with power.

Stiles simply shakes and moans. "Good. So fucking good." And Peter thrusts in deeper. The position isn't optimal for him, but he's not what matters.

Another thought to examine later.

Curling one arm under Stiles' head, he uses his hips and his strength to thrust all the way in, panting harshly against his mate's trembling shoulders. The inner muscles squeeze around his cock and he grunts and pulls back as best he can before thrusting again.

"Touch me," Stiles begs, his hand digging into Peter's hip, and Peter reaches around and finds his cock hard again. Beginning a rhythm of thrusts and withdrawals, he pumps Stiles' cock, quickly speeding up both motions. He doesn't want to tire him by drawing this out, and it's been nearly two weeks since he last felt the need to jerk off in the shower. He's close already.

"Still good?"

"Fuck yeah." Stiles' voice is hoarse and his heart is beating rapidly, but he's telling the truth, and Peter picks up speed again. After a few minutes of silence, save for the slapping of damp flesh and harsh breathing, Stiles starts to keen and tremble. Peter slides his hand down the shaft of his cock to tug on his balls and that's all it takes for his mate to shake apart from his second orgasm. As he comes, he clenches down and Peter grunts in pleasure, his cock aching, his balls tightening. "Come on, Peter," Stiles pleads tiredly, rolling his hips back and relaxing his inner muscles so Peter can resume thrusting, but after a few minutes he's still on the cusp of orgasm and Stiles is making both encouraging and frustrating noises as he caresses his hip and stomach and wriggles.

Despite his earlier thought that this wasn't about him, he still wants to come, but he doesn't have enough leverage. "Can I put you on your hands and knees for a couple minutes?" Peter pants out.

Looking over his shoulder, Stiles must see something needy on his face because he nods and, when Peter pulls out, shifts onto his shaky limbs, his head on the pillow. "Not sure how long I can hold myself up."

"I'll hold you," Peter promises as he moves between Stiles' legs and wraps his arms around his thickened waist. With an easy push he's back inside and thrusting hard and fast, driving for his own orgasm. When it comes, shuddering through him, he bites back a howl of pleasure and lets the languor take him.

Still, he's careful when he pulls out, looking down to make sure the rim of Stiles' asshole isn't any more than simply swollen and tender. He lost a bit of control there at the end, but everything looks fine and there's no scent of blood. "Okay?" When Stiles mumbles something in the affirmative, Peter shifts to his side, rolling the younger man with him to spoon against his back and press lazy kisses on his neck. "Thank you."

"Two orgasms to one," Stiles yawns. "Pretty sure I should be thanking you."

Smiling Peter gently caresses the swell of his mate's stomach and feels a little foot or hand press back. "Anymore contractions?"

"Too relaxed. Sleep now."

Peter's unsurprised when Stiles falls asleep--he did that after sex most times before he became pregnant. As the room quiets to the sounds of their breathing, he tunes into the heart beats beneath his hands and lets himself drift. In a, little bit, he'll fetch his phone, call Deaton, call John, make sure Stiles really is okay and thank his father for being there when Peter failed to be, but for now he's content to hold the two most precious people in his life.

More things to think about, to figure out, to accept.

But, not right now.

End

**Author's Note:**

> This is a high risk pregnancy so Stiles' diet is much more regimented than a normal pregnant woman's, both to keep him and the fetus healthy but also to prevent preeclampsia, gestational diabetes and other bad things, which Stiles is at a much higher risk for due to the magic and, well, being a boy with an artificial womb created by said magic. On the other hand, occasional sex is good for him.


End file.
